


Every New Beginning Comes From Some Other Beginning's End

by Rambert



Series: Battle Scars [2]
Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Anger Management, Background Relationships, Bisexual Boone, Boone POV, Boone's gonna be a hot mess in this one just you wait, Canon-Typical Violence, Courier is Independent but hates Legion, Developing Friendships, Diary/Journal, Doctor/Patient, Emotional Baggage, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Smut, Fainting, Gender-Neutral Courier (Fallout), Healing, Hugs, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Insomnia, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Men Crying, Military Backstory, Murder, New Vegas, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Platonic Courier Relationship, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Revenge, Slow Burn, Sobriety, Spoilers, Suicidal Ideation, Suicidal Thoughts, Therapy, Tragic Romance, War, emphasis on the hot, prescription sleeping pills
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-20 17:20:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30008280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rambert/pseuds/Rambert
Summary: After the courier Lilith assisted him with facing down the ghosts of his past, Craig Boone was still alive despite all odds.What the hell was he going to do now?[canon spoilers, mind tags & chapter warning notes thank you]
Relationships: Craig Boone & Manny Vargas, Craig Boone/Manny Vargas, Craig Boone/Original Male Character, past Craig Boone/Carla Boone
Series: Battle Scars [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2207373
Comments: 3
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> TW: Murder and death referenced, suicidal ideation expressed mentally and verbally, background character death via suicide mentioned.
> 
> There's also a censored ableist slur towards the end of this chapter.
> 
> yes I named this after That Song, please don't judge me too much for it. Can't think of a good title, I've been playing this game too much lately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so I really did this in my FNV playthrough where I was Neutral with Legion and placed C-4 all around Nelson and just detonated it all at once... it was magnificent. Buuuut I wasn't Neutral as soon as I did that ahah.

They'd done it all and then some.

Every time Boone thought for sure they were outnumbered, that he and Lilith couldn't possibly fend off more Legion with just the two of them plus the Eyebot... somehow they survived.

Nelson had been the logical first choice as it was only a day's travel from Novac; Lilith had showed Boone the blocks of C-4 that they had and smiled wide before going in there undercover to plant it under the guard towers at night. How the courier could stroll around and plant their explosives without anyone seeming to really care or even notice, Boone didn't know, but Lil pulled it off. It had been a long and tense wait, but more than worth it.

While standing back at a safe distance Boone watched as she detonated all the blocks at once and Nelson's Legion force went up in smoke. Only the dogs survived the blasts, and they ran off into the mountains. Lilith and Boone untied the hostages at the center of town on the crosses, who had thankfully only been mentally rattled by the blasts due to Lil's careful placement. She gave the soldiers water and helped them to their feet from where they'd collapsed.

Boone couldn't help mentioning to her that he was grateful they'd rescued these soldiers, who were weak but could still walk on their own and immediately made a beeline for Forlorn Hope. When Lil had shrugged it off like it had been the obvious thing to do, Boone had told her about the NCR ordering First Recon to do mercy killings.

Lilith nodded slowly as if things were making more sense to her about him, and promised that she wanted to save as many lives as possible. Despite his misgivings about Lil's general anti-NCR sentiments, Boone was beginning to believe her on this.

Then they'd sacked Cottonwood Cove together, with Lil tossing in frag grenades and Boone following up the blasts with quick successions of shots to catch any stragglers not burnt to a crisp from the Eyebot's laser. The only limiting factor he'd had before was ammunition, and the Eyebot could help Lilith make new bullets too out of the old casings and fresh gunpowder: now Boone was always fully strapped.

The trio made a frighteningly good team, but unfortunately this was interfering with Boone's plan to die. He couldn't seem to part ways with Lilith though; he'd grown accustomed to their quiet and unobtrusive company. Somehow being with them was easier than being alone... and perhaps that feeling was mutual, as after months of traveling together Lil had seemed in no hurry to pursue their own goals until just last week. And she'd been actively avoiding all the praise the NCR was attempting to publicly bestow upon her for "razing those troublesome Legion camps to the ground".

Along the road to Bitter Springs, they'd barely managed to sneak past several Deathclaws. You could cut the tension with a knife as they practically crawled by on opposite side of the road, bellies in a ditch. Boone had forgotten how huge they were, and wondered if it might be better to just charge into one headfirst... but he couldn't do that to Lilith and ED-E. Where there was one Deathclaw, many more would soon follow.

When the raiding party had showed up out of nowhere the very night they'd arrived at Bitter Springs Boone had thought, _okay, surely this is it. This is the end_. But even then, exhausted from traveling, they'd made it out of that scrape and into more, just plowing through Legion assassins like they were tissue paper.

Though it had felt _amazing_ to take down Legion, it had also felt useless.

What was the point of anything nowadays? The itch that Boone scratched every time he pulled a trigger on a legionary soldier only intensified at night when he laid down to try and rest his eyes.

He still couldn't sleep. He'd thought desperately that getting closure on Carla's death would have helped but why would it? It was merely the most recent in the crimes against humanity Craig Boone was responsible for.

The nightmares of Bitter Springs still haunted him even after he'd made his amends, now it just varied between that and seeing Carla's dead corpse. He would never know peace again.

Boone still wanted to die, and the world just wouldn't seem to let him go out the way he'd planned. A hero's death, or whatever-- guess he didn't deserve anything like that either.

He began to contemplate trying to take something... a poison, perhaps, or just drinking too much; now that he'd been traveling sober with Lilith for a while he'd probably have a harder time getting drunk without alcohol poisoning, so why not just lean into that?

The temptation to do that when they'd been on the Strip last week had been almost too much to bear.

But traveling with someone else had given Boone a gnawing feeling of responsibility that he hadn't felt since he'd buried Carla. What if Lilith was depending on him to stick with her now?

He'd much rather that be the case than her thinking she needed to keep him around purely for _his_ sake. But at the same time, he couldn't help wishing that she'd get tired of him so that he could end it all for good.

One night at the campfire he decided to bring it up.

"...I never expected to survive any of this with you, Lilith," he said bluntly, not wanting to be vague.

"You underestimated us," Lil said in a cool voice with an easy shrug, but their eyes looked pained.

Boone took a deep breath.

"...I don't think you understand, it's not that-- I didn't trust you. I do," he said seriously. "It's more that I thought... it would be easier to go out fighting as a soldier than having to--"

Fuck, it was impossible to get the words out, but Lil's face twisted and a glimmer of recognition was there anyway. Not for the first time, Boone was grateful they were so perceptive.

"Ah," was all that she said, but Lil hugged their knees and looked much younger all of a sudden.

"...I'm sorry, I don't know why I brought it up," Boone said, though that was a lie.

He'd brought it up to try and scare her away, but all he'd done was make himself feel guilty for hurting Lilith with this burden of knowing that she'd never asked for.

"...I told you this wasn't going to end well," he whispered hoarsely, and Lil's back tensed.

"What do you mean?" they asked, their voice small and insecure like Boone had never heard it before.

He couldn't avoid the truth of this any longer.

"I want to die, Lil," he blurted out, his own voice barely audible. "I deserve it for the things I've done. So I'll help you still with whatever you need, because you helped me. But I never expected to live this long after burying Carla."

"...Burying?" Lil echoed in disbelief. "Boone, you--"

"Why d'you think I wanted to take out Cottonwod Cove, Lilith? That's where they fucking took her," Boone said wretchedly, his emotions overwhelming him as everything spilled out at last.

"That's where I took the shot. There were too many of them. Even if I'd had help it would have been hopeless. There were hundreds of Legion, selling Carla away to be their slave. I had to stop it. And after, I-- buried her."

"Boone," Lilith breathed, their eyes going wide with something too much like fear as their gaze snapped to Boone's at last.

"You asked when we first met how I knew she was dead," he said miserably, sitting up and compulsively beginning to fold up his bedroll and pack his things.

"Well now you know. I'm a monster and I shouldn't have survived that night we spent on Coyote Tail Ridge," Boone muttered viciously as he fumbled with the drawstring on his pack.

"Boone, stop, please..." Lilith's hand was on his arm, the first time she had ever touched him this way.

Their hand was cold, and a little clammy. Boone swallowed down his guilt and let his self-loathing wash over him afresh.

"If you want to leave in the morning I-I won't stop you, but-- don't leave like this, please. There's fire geckos all around here and they roam at night."

Lilith's pity was irritating. What did it matter if he killed himself tonight or tomorrow?!

"That's kind of the _point_ Lilith," Boone snapped, feeling close to losing his temper.

"And that's _why_ I'm asking you to stay, _please_." Lil's voice was strained, and Boone noticed the grip on his arm had tightened-- maybe it wasn't pity making her act this way.

"Don't leave me like this, don't let this be our last memory together, please," they begged softly, and now Boone was humiliated as he realized what he was doing to her.

He'd put his life in Lilith's hands expecting them both to die, and now was telling her he was upset it hadn't worked. No wonder she was upset too... what a shitty companion Boone was.

"Sorry," he said thickly, feeling his throat closing up.

"Just... let's just sit by the fire again, okay? C'mon," Lil said, and Boone's pride splintered at how shaky their voice was; he allowed himself to be led back and was glad when the grip on his arm released.

The two of them sat in silence while the fire died down from a roar to a softer, muted hissing in the night breeze. Loud pops and cracks echoed occasionally from the dry foraged wood. Finally Lil ran a hand over her face and spoke.

"...My sister killed herself," she whispered, and Boone shivered as he immediately knew why she'd reacted this way to a brutish stranger she had no reason to be so attached to.

"I'm sorry for your loss," he said compulsively, not knowing what else to say to that.

Lil just sighed and waved a hand in dismissal, clearly not wanting or needing his strained attempt at condolences.

"I was a baby. Didn't even know what the word 'suicide' meant, all I knew was... that she was gone. But when I got older, my mom told me all about it, and I-- I swore to myself that I'd _never_ let anyone in my life do that to themselves," she said with conviction.

"...Did you already know I wanted to die, then?" Boone asked in a quiet voice, and Lil shook their head.

"Not until tonight, no, but... I was worried that might be the case. It's part of why I wanted to help you out with your stuff before going to the Tops."

Boone grimaced. "I don't want your pity," he started but Lil cut him off.

"It's not _pity_ , and the fact that you're so willing to see it that way says volumes about how you see yourself," they said with derision.

"And that's not my concern, honestly. I don't care _why_ you think you deserve to end yourself on purpose, I'm still going to be against it."

"Oh yeah? I just told you I murdered my wife," Boone snarled angrily, tired of Lilith acting like he had _anything_ to live for.

"And you murdered whole families at Bitter Springs," Lil replied evenly, though Boone knew them well enough by now to see that she was barely restraining her own temper.

"I put two and two together _months_ ago Boone. I know you mercy killed Carla... I just didn't know you stuck around to bury her afterward," she finished quietly. "And-- I'm sorry you had to do it alone."

"Oh," was all Boone could say, at a loss for words.

Had he been that bad at keeping a secret? Did everyone back in Novac know too, or was Lil just extra perceptive? He didn't know.

"Yeah... so if you're thinking I'm going to be afraid of you, you're wrong," Lilith said, and suddenly gave a bark of a _very_ bitter laugh.

"You want to know what I did to Benny?"

"Besides kill him?" Boone wasn't sure where this was going.

He remembered a few nights ago, when Lil had instructed Boone to stay in his room at the Tops until the morning-- not like that had been difficult for him to obey. It's what he'd been doing most of the time on the Strip anyway.

But she'd had an unusually grim look on her face while explaining that she needed to "take care" of Benny, and Boone hadn't asked questions.

"I killed him _right_ after I fucked him. And it was good, Boone." Lilith's voice and expression were stony, her words low and mean like Craig had never heard from them until now.

"He was so bewildered that I, someone he'd shot in the head, could want him-- but once we got into it he really _liked_ it. Said I had the softest tits in the Mojave for someone with such hard eyes."

Boone snorted, unable to help his reaction to such a bizarre attempt at a compliment, and Lilith just smiled slowly before continuing.

"And _I_ liked it too. He made me cum twice before he finished... and then, when he thought I was getting up to clean off, I grabbed my pistol and shot him in the head. I was still naked and out of breath from my second orgasm."

"...Damn," Boone breathed; he would have whistled but he was too stunned.

It seemed Lilith really _did_ have a devilish side after all.

"Mmm. I didn't tell you at first because I didn't want to spook you into thinking I'd do the same to you or something," she said, and Boone shook his head in amazement.

"Here I was thinking the same about you based on-- what I did to Carla."

"Well lucky for you I can read between the lines," Lil said with a smirk; Boone felt relieved as he realized that Lilith was likely still the only one who knew how and why Carla was dead.

The silence stretched between them for a few moments, heavy and blanketing.

"...Thanks for not letting me leave tonight," Boone said, his voice so quiet that the crackling embers nearly made it inaudible.

But Lilith heard it; they exhaled slowly while nodding.

"Thanks for staying," she murmured back, and the silence unwound and turned companionable as the two of them sat together watching the glowing remains of the fire until dawn.

\--

Without really having to discuss it specifically, Boone and Lilith reached an agreement to head back towards New Vegas-- to the Medical Clinic.

At one point in their travels together, they'd been at McCarran and had gotten Betsy from First Recon to agree to see Dr. Usanagi for her trauma. Boone's jaw had clenched as Lilith had spoken about it to Betsy so casually.

 _Just another wound to fix, huh?_ Betsy had said. _Guess I never thought of it that way_.

Boone hadn't either, and now that Lilith knew the truth of him he'd decided that perhaps Manny had been right to insist he get help after all.

He mentioned wanting to head to the Northeast side of the city; Lilith had nodded and not asked any further questions. Boone was grateful for that.

When they were a block away from the Clinic Boone said "There's someone I gotta see here. Might have to stick around for a while if she's got time for me."

"Dr. Usanagi?" Lil asked quietly, giving a faint smile when Boone nodded.

"I'm glad. Really. And I've got my room at the Wrangler, I'll get another one for you."

"I can cover it," Boone insisted, but Lil shook their head in that intense way of theirs and he knew it was futile to argue.

"All right-- thanks," he said gruffly, wanting to be alone for now to work up the nerve to walk in the door.

He'd been here of course, and recently too, but-- not on behalf of himself. This was something new.

"You can do it," Lil said softly, and not for the first time Boone half-wondered if they could actually read minds.

"See ya later Boone." They waved and walked off, leaving Boone alone with his racing thoughts.

He took a deep breath and fought to calm himself. Why was fighting bloodthirsty Legion less anxiety-inducing than this?

Getting help wasn't anything to be ashamed of. He knew that, logically, but... he still felt so damn _weak_. Boone's father had always told him that only cr**y people needed therapists and that it was a hack career.

But Dr. Usanagi was a physician as well, not just a therapist. She'd explained to Betsy that the mind needed just as much health care as the rest of the body. And his father... had been wrong about a lot of things.

Boone strode up to the front door of the Medical Clinic and pushed it open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *taps mic* I'd just like to say that in my current playthrough of FNV I got the Ranger Safehouse key and got Boone a Ranger Combat Armor coat and oh my gOD he's so hot in it I can barely think hnnngh head empty only flare coat
> 
> https://fallout.fandom.com/wiki/NCR_Ranger_combat_armor
> 
> also as a disclaimer, this fic is guest-friendly for now but when it veers into smut I will user restrict it. Thanks for reading~


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _DISCLAIMER:_ I am not a therapist, I haven't been to a therapist in a few years, and though I am roleplaying out therapy sessions please do NOT take this as actual medical advice. This is based off a video game after all!
> 
> Also tw: death, alcoholism, suicidal ideation and plans to commit suicide, PTSD, yelling, passing out (syncope), sleeping pills and alcohol.

"Have you been getting the urge to drink again?" Dr. Usanagi asked, and Boone nodded.

"Yeah. Pretty much every day still," he admitted, his hands clenching around his kneecaps. "Being so close to the Strip sure doesn't help."

This was the third time in as many weeks that he'd had a therapy session; today Dr. Usanagi seemed a bit more tired than usual. Not for the first time since coming in here, Boone wondered how the hell one person could serve this many people in the city without losing herself completely.

But guilt wouldn't help anyone-- the doctor had said it herself the first time he'd come in. Now she sighed, nodding as if commiserating with Boone over a shared sentiment.

"I get it," she said softly. "I'm twenty years sober off whiskey myself. It doesn't get any easier, Craig, and I'm sorry to tell you that."

"But I don't want to drink just to drink again, that's the thing," Boone clarified.

"I only want to drink to-- end it. Haven't even set foot in any casino but the Wrangler and the Tops, and only went there because of Lilith. Mostly I've been walking around the NCR Sharecropper farm and Aerotech during the day... I don't want to be tempted."

"There are people living on the Strip and working in the casinos who don't drink," Dr. Usanagi said.

"But, I realize that wasn't your point. The temptation is difficult, and you're not alone in feeling it. Still though... you could 'end it' in any number of ways that would be much faster and less painful than alcohol poisoning. You've told me several already," she said with a pointed look.

Even after only two and a quarter sessions, Boone appreciated her frankness and unwillingness to sugarcoat. He needed this level of honesty and willingness to approach morbid subjects head-on.

"Yeah. Guess drinking seems easiest though," Boone said, trying to shrug but his arms were too tense.

"Then it'd seem like I wasn't... trying to. That it was an accident, and that way people wouldn't-- think I'm weak for committing suicide."

_Like my father would. If the bastard's even still alive himself._

" _If_ you were truly ready to throw it all away and die, Craig, then what on Earth would you care about what people think of you?"

The gentle but firmly-worded question rattled around in Boone's head for a full minute before he could answer, and he was grateful for the doctor giving him space to sort out his thoughts without interrupting.

Was he really _wanting_ to die, or did he just feel obligated to end himself out of a desire to atone for his sins?

"I'm not ready to die," he said at last, and Dr. Usanagi seemed relieved.

"But I just don't know what else I deserve," Boone said quickly before she could applaud him for his breakthrough.

"Even though I want it, I'm still _scared_ of dying-- I hate myself for it every day. D'you know how many times I've had a pistol in my mouth in the past year?" he asked, unaware that he'd both stood up and was talking in a much louder voice than he needed to use.

"If I could have done it by now I _would_ have! I've _killed_ people who weren't even soldiers. I murdered my own _family_. I deserve to be in the ground with them," he said, suddenly feeling dizzy.

"You didn't _murder_ them, Craig, you were ordered to kill as a soldier in a military authoritarian setting and then later pushed by dire circumstance. Following orders isn't the same thing as wanting to murder." Dr. Usanagi was trying to placate him now, and Boone hated it.

"Following _orders_ doesn't excuse what I did!" he bellowed, not having shouted words this loud since a good old-fashioned _sir yes sir_ on the training grounds at McCarran.

Dimly he was aware that his wasn't an appropriate way to speak to a doctor trying to help him, but he was feeling rather queasy and that was distracting him from being able to verbalize an apology.

"Craig, you didn't want to do it, you didn't make the _choice_ to murder those people," Dr. Usanagi said, her voice coming to Boone's ears as if underwater.

" _I pulled the trigger_!" he screamed, unable to breathe in after, feeling like his chest had collapsed.

"Craig... you might want to sit down for a moment," was all Boone heard before his vision went black.

He woke up on the floor, his cheek pressing painfully against the hard grimy tile of the Clinic. His right arm and knee hurt from where he'd fallen onto that side. How long had he been out?

"Craig?" a voice above him was saying-- the doctor. "Craig, can you hear me?"

"Nngh," he moaned, and heard a relieved sigh then felt a small hand pat his back reassuringly.

"Oh thank goodness, you're okay. I ran out of ammonium inhalant ampules yesterday and the next supply caravan won't be here til tomorrow," Dr. Usanagi lamented.

"Sorry," Boone slurred, still feeling dizzy, and Dr. Usanagi clucked her tongue.

"Don't you dare apologize... unless it's for the yelling, then I accept," she said.

"We'll discuss it next week, but for now I've just been informed we have a walk-in emergency. I'm going to put you on the couch in the lobby and you can stay here as long as you like, okay? I don't want you passing out again on your way back to the Wrangler."

Boone had only processed about half of what she was saying, so he just managed a gruff "Okay" and let her hoist him up under his left elbow. How was she this small yet so strong? She must work out hard.

He let her help him totter over to the lobby couch and sank into it heavily, feeling the ancient springs creaking under his weight. Being sober meant eating more, which meant he'd finally started to put on a few pounds again. He'd built more muscle too with his own workout regimen, almost getting back to the physique he'd had in his prime with First Recon. Not that it helped him feel any better.

Still nauseous, Boone closed his eyes and attempted to tune out the flurry of dialogue washing over him from the Clinic that was bustling to save someone's life. Hearing phrases about _contusions_ and _lacerations_ sure didn't help his stomach. But staying curled up on the couch meant that after a while he dozed off despite all the activity-- his body was still exhausted after all.

He woke with a start to a pounding headache, realizing he was dehydrated. And his knee and arm still hurt, though it was more of an aching stiffness now.

"How're you feeling?" one of the lobby guards asked when they noticed him sitting up and rubbing his head.

"Headache," Boone grunted, and thankfully they provided him some water and basic painkiller free of additional charge-- the therapy wasn't cheap, more due to the doctor's packed schedule than anything else.

Part of the reason the doctor had started teaching classes was so that she could train replacements, so that she wouldn't have to keep working here full-time. _In a few years_ , she'd told Boone brightly. He couldn't imagine staying in one place for so long... but then again, maybe when you weren't running from the past, settling down wouldn't seem so scary.

"Dr. Usanagi is still stitching up the emergency patient who just came in," they said when Boone asked.

He thanked them for letting him stay here, and when he stumbled out into the rapidly-cooling Mojave night he wondered what time it was. His appointment had started at 1800, but when he checked his watch he was a bit stunned to see it was nearly 2100 now.

The walk back to the Wrangler was only a bit difficult on his unsteady feet as Boone kept his eyes averted from as many lights as possible. Snatches of the appointment came back to him, and he wondered why he'd yelled like that.

He hadn't even been feeling angry, really... more... trapped. Like the walls had been closing in. Why had that happened?

Boone sighed.

Dr. Usanagi had said they would discuss it next week at his next appointment, so clearly she wasn't going to drop him as a patient over his behavior-- yet. Boone decided he wanted to get her something, a token of his appreciation so that maybe he'd stop coming off so brutish.

He nodded to James Garrett in the lobby; the man said hello but didn't look up from the dusty beer bottle he was wiping off.

Boone was just heading up to his room when he saw someone coming down the stairs, and it took him a good five seconds to register that it was Lilith.

"...Lil?" The surprise in his voice was evident.

He'd _never_ seen them dress this nicely before, and the faint blush that sprang to Lilith's cheeks made Boone wonder if this was a rarity for them in general, not just in his company.

They were wearing a dapper old-fashioned suit, black tie and all, except with a pleated miniskirt instead of slacks-- complete with some thigh-high lace stockings. The outfit must have been expensive as hell with those Pre-War fabrics. They also had a handmade metal pin on their blazer lapel that resembled a flying bird.

"Hey, Boone," they said with a small smile. "I'm going out to Gomorrah tonight. D'you--"

She hesitated for a moment, looking Boone in the eyes. "Want to come with me?"

And though he knew Lil was aware of his drinking problem, Boone had a feeling she wasn't inviting him out to get shitfaced.

Maybe this would be a good test for him... the painkiller had kicked in and his head wasn't hurting any more so, why not try it. He hoped there wouldn't be a visible bruise on his cheek from passing out.

"Sure," he said, "But I don't have anything nice to wear."

He plucked self-consciously at his sweat-stained fatigues under his tattered combat coat, but Lil just smiled wide.

"You look fine. You've got the ex-soldier aesthetic working for you."

Gomorrah was overwhelming. Somehow in the past month the seedy Wrangler had become a sort of home to him; this place was both gaudy and sickening in a way only the Strip could provide.

Boone almost regretted coming here when Lilith took his hand and gently squeezed it.

"Thanks for coming out with me tonight," she said. "It gets awfully lonely here sometimes."

Boone silently agreed, and when she let go of his hand he said "Thanks for inviting me out."

It was the first time they'd done this sort of thing together since arriving in New Vegas.

Boone hadn't seen Lil for days at a time sometimes, and had always assumed it was because she knew people here-- and she did, especially after killing Benny. Lilith was basically a local celebrity now.

But maybe she'd just been wandering around like him, killing time just for the sake of it.

Boone really hoped she wasn't only sticking around here for him... but then again, he realized that they might be drifting aimlessly in life right now just like he was. He'd decided not to pry too much into it.

He watched Lilith order a drink, and the urge to do the same for himself was palpable. Boone tried to think back to what Dr. Usanagi had told him the previous week, that he should start asking himself _why_ he wanted to drink. "And be honest with yourself about the answer."

 _Do I just want one drink to sip on and enjoy, or do I want to die?_ he asked himself, and when he couldn't answer he knew that he couldn't "just have one drink". Not tonight, anyway. And maybe not ever again.

As the doctor had said, sobriety never got any easier... Boone sighed.

"What's on your mind?" Lil asked in their usual sensitive way; they asked it often, but Boone also knew they were aware that he'd gone to the Medical Clinic today.

He decided to not mention the drinking thing, not wanting Lil to feel guilty-- wasn't their fault he was a recovering alcoholic.

"Yelled at Dr. Usanagi during therapy," he said, staring down at the bartop they were both sitting at. "Feel like a jerk."

"Hm. Things got tense today huh?" Lil asked, and he nodded.

"She's a medical professional, you know. Not some delicate flower."

Boone couldn't help an amused snort at that-- he hadn't told Lilith that he'd passed out, not wanting to be worried over tonight. Would she think _he_ was a 'delicate flower'?

Lil chuckled. "Dr. Usanagi's been healing the Wasteland almost longer than you or I have been alive, Craig."

"Still feel like I-- shouldn't act this way," he said after a few moments, the words coming out stubborn. "What right do I even have to be mad?"

Even though he _hadn't_ felt mad, it had been fear manifesting as anger... but he couldn't quite verbalize that yet. He felt ashamed to even think it. It felt like a weakness.

"Boone, you've got emotions just like we all do, and you're allowed to feel them," Lilith said.

"If it's really bothering you that much, then just put some effort into thinking about what you want to say to her when you see her next."

"I... wanted to get her something," Boone said, sharing a thought that was only half-finished: he was trusting Lil more and opening up easier.

"That would be nice," Lil agreed. "But what do you get for the community doctor, hm?"

"I'm stumped," Boone admitted, though he hadn't actually thought about it until just now; as Lilith finished their drink the two of them pondered it.

The casino floor bubbled with sound and activity around them, but Boone found himself glad he hadn't stayed in his room tonight after all. He was grateful that Lilith was wanting to spend time with him, and that they could let silences between them develop. Easy silences were a new thing to him.

_Sorry I never sat like this with you, Carla. I should have gotten help sooner like you and Manny said._

"Wait! I've got it," Lil said at last, raising their hand in excitement almost fast enough to spill their drink.

"I saw a book over in that pawn shop in West Side the other day, and it was expensive enough that they probably still have it. Journal of Internal Medicine or something, I remember the cover. Maybe she could use it for her staff, or one of her classes she teaches."

Boone nodded. "I'll check it out in the morning. Thanks Lilith."

He had a couple hundred extra caps from stopping in at the NCR Embassy last week; apparently he'd never collected his final paycheck from them in his haste to move to Novac, and his account was still good for it so he'd cashed out.

Hopefully the book would be fairly priced enough for him to afford it from this one bonus, because the rest of his money was already going to the Clinic: he'd have to get some sort of bodyguard job or something soon. Not that he was at all eager to work around here, but he had to earn his keep somehow.

"Anytime, Boone." Lil was grinning now after knocking back the remains of their drink.

"D'you want to dance?"

"I thought people came here to watch dancers," Boone teased, watching Lilith toss scavenged NCR money unceremoniously onto the bar.

Were they a bit tipsy already off one drink? It wasn't impossible.

"Hmph. The stage dancers shouldn't get to have _all_ the fun," Lilith mock-complained, spinning around a few times and then settling in to the rhythm of the music playing from a nearby radio.

Boone joined them, and when Lil took his hands in hers he smiled faintly. They began to "slow-dance", a half-waltz and a half-sway. The dance of non-dancers everywhere.

"It's so _hard_ to meet people here, Boone," Lil sighed, sounding frustrated.

"Everyone who isn't in love with the excessive New Vegas life either wants to either kill you, fuck you over, or just fuck you and then be done with you forever."

Boone couldn't help another snort of almost-laughter, feeling in an unusually good mood all of a sudden.

Maybe it was from Lil's warm hands in his... maybe he'd been lonely too. It was nice to have a friend, even just one. And he sympathized with Lilith, but at the same time, what did she expect from a place like this?

"Well this _is_ New Vegas," he said, and Lil's nose wrinkled in protest as she scoffed.

"But all _sorts_ of people come through this town. People like you and me, every day! I just can't seem to find any yet," she sighed. "But I'll keep looking."

"So... you're sticking around a while longer then, huh?" Boone asked, feeling bold now that they were swaying so close together.

He'd assumed that Lil would have skipped town upon finding out that he was going to spend a few months seeing Dr. Usanagi, but... apparently not.

"Of course I am. You're stuck with me now," Lilith teased, and Boone felt his face get hot.

Were they coming on to him, or was he just misinterpreting based on being so rusty at-- well, everything?

He couldn't even contemplate being flirtacious with anyone right now, not when he still saw Carla's gaping head wound several times a week in his nightmares.

"...As a friend, Boone," they clarified a moment later, their face falling a little, and Boone realized that his own expression had likely given him away.

"Sorry. I know you didn't mean it like that," he lied, and thankfully she either believed him or let the lie go.

"It's okay," Lil said, but he still felt like he needed to clear the air.

"...I'm not... so good at friendships nowadays," Boone said, regret evident in his voice as he couldn't help thinking about Manny.

He hadn't told Dr. Usanagi about his best friend yet, because doing that would mean he'd have to admit how horribly he'd treated Manny.

"You're doing all right," Lil said gently, squeezing one of his hands in hers. "And you're getting better."

 _I'm getting better_ , Boone repeated to himself as he squeezed back.

\--

"All right, Craig, we've done very well today so far, and I think it's time to discuss the note you gave me. It says you want to talk about-- your best friend Manny Vargas?"

Dr. Usanagi was reading off a crumpled shred of paper that Boone had written his thought down on, knowing he wouldn't be able to say it aloud. He'd put it inside the cover of the D.C. Journal of Internal Medicine, which Dr. Usanagi said she had been meaning to get her hands on to use in her classroom.

She'd been grateful, and taken Boone's awkward apology with grace and professional decorum. They'd had a good beginning to the session, but now she'd mentioned the note.

Boone fidgeted anxiously and wished he hadn't included it in the book at all.

"...Yeah. He was in First Recon with me and we moved to Novac in 2280. I... ruined things between us," Boone said, his voice going so low that Dr. Usanagi bent forward in her chair.

"What was that at the end? You got real quiet there."

"I turned on him," Boone said in clear self-hatred, looking somewhere over the doctor's head as he continued to speak in a barely more audible volume.

"He was the first person I told about Carla being missing and-- when he had a reaction I wasn't expecting, I assumed he had something to do with it."

"You did? Why?" The doctor's voice wasn't judgmental, but nor was it compassionate-- Boone knew how it sounded to denounce a 'best friend' in this way.

He took a slow, shuddering breath.

"The two of them had never liked each other in the first place and it was just... easy to think he'd acted on that. I was really ready to kill him over it," he whispered.

"Would've if I'd found any proof. But it wasn't him. And-- now I don't know how to make it up to him for being suspicious."

"Ah." Dr. Usanagi exhaled slowly and sat up straight again.

"So you're concerned that Manny won't forgive you for breaking the trust of your friendship?"

Boone nodded. "I-- tried to apologize and he just got uncomfortable."

"...If all you said was 'I'm sorry', then I don't blame him for that," Dr. Usanagi said. "This sort of breach of trust will take a lot more than an apology band-aid to fix."

Boone winced. "What else am I supposed to say?" he asked, not liking how defensive his voice sounded.

"Have you honestly sat and thought about that, Craig?" Dr. Usanagi's tone was level, but holding him accountable in just the way he needed.

"...No," Boone admitted. "...I... feel like I'm gonna mess it up no matter what."

"That's a self-fulfilling prophecy if ever I heard one," the doctor sighed. "You need to give yourself a chance to try. If Manny were here, right now, what would you say to him _besides_ the fact that you're sorry?"

Boone froze up at that, unable to speak for half a minute.

"I-I don't know," he finally said, realizing with humiliation that he was trembling all over as if literally cold.

"It's okay not to know right away. Take some deep breaths and mull it over. We've still got almost half an hour left, so take your time to gather your thoughts. There's no rush," Dr. Usanagi said reassuringly.

But when he obviously couldn't get anything out, she started speaking again a few minutes later.

"Don't give up on yourself because this is hard, okay? You obviously want to do something about your relationship with Manny while there's still time to make amends, or you wouldn't have brought this to my attention in the way that you did. I applaud you for being open about this, but you can't avoid the confrontation, only prepare yourself for it... you have to face this eventually."

Boone still couldn't meet the doctor's gaze as she kept going.

"You've been in a lot of terrible situations where you had no control. There's nothing more you can do for Carla now that she's dead, and we talked about that during your first session-- how acceptance is for the things you cannot change, so that you may begin to heal while mourning those uncontrollable things that have happened. And your grief about losing her from your life is going to need to be processed differently than your grief over NCR violence during your service."

Dr. Usanagi waited until Boone nodded to continue.

"But what you've got going on with Manny isn't set in stone, and you _don't_ have to accept whatever you think will happen between the two of you. Resist the urge to grieve someone you haven't actually lost yet."

Boone nodded again, slower this time, and Dr. Usanagi spoke once more after another few minutes of silence.

"Think about your actual feelings here, not just how sorry you are for what you've done. Resist the urge to dwell on how horrible you think Manny thinks you are, and try instead to imagine his feelings too, how hurt he must be that you suspected him. React to that, react to _him--_ not your own projections of guilt. Tell him how you really feel, even if you think he wouldn't want to hear it."

After taking a few more deep breaths, Boone tried to start speaking again; he failed several times after a single word or less, grunting and feeling embarrassingly close to tears.

Why was this so damn _hard_? Why was he so bad at talking?! All he could think of was Manny's frustrated grimace, the one his ex-best friend had worn just before turning his back on Boone last year, and it was making his throat close up.

"Just say whatever you're feeling, it doesn't have to be perfect," Dr. Usanagi said gently, encouragingly.

"Imagine he's here. Be honest with him, Boone, what would you say?"

He closed his eyes, doing his best to follow the doctor's advice. If Manny _was_ here, seeing him at the Medical Clinic going to therapy... would he want to hear what Boone had to say after all? Or would he still be just as upset, even angry?

He hadn't given his best friend a real chance to react to anything before leaving. What if Manny never wanted to speak to him again, even after all this work of trying to better himself? Boone saw his friend's back turning on him from up in the sniper nest...

Then the body slumped and fell, arms sliding down sickeningly between Dinky's lower teeth. Boone's stomach wrenched.

What if Manny was dead? What if Boone abandoning his post had meant Novac was no longer safe, and what if Manny had been too tired from shouldering the responsibility alone?

"Boone." The doctor's voice floated through the haze of his intrusive thoughts. "Are you still with me?"

"No," he said miserably, and he opened his eyes to see Dr. Usanagi frown.

"Well, perhaps we'll leave this one be for now, but... I really want you to try and think about this on your own for next week, okay?"

"I don't-- want to leave it be for now," Boone struggled to get out, watching the doctor's eyebrows raise as soon as he did.

"Are you sure? You seem like you're-- dissociating a bit. I don't want to make you spiral," she said, and he shook his head.

"Just... give me a minute," he insisted, exhaling and taking a deep breath.

"All right," she said. "We've got plenty of time, Boone, just stay focused. Think about Manny being here in the room with you, right now. What would you say to him that isn't 'I'm sorry'?"

But after another couple minutes of tense silence Boone burst into tears like he hadn't since digging Carla's grave, quieter this time but still wracking his body with great shaking sobs, and he could not speak any more that session.

\--

Manny didn't deserve to have Boone's presence inflicted upon him again, Craig thought wretchedly as he lay in his bed that night not sleeping.

Dr. Usanagi didn't understand the depth of what they'd once had... how could she? He hadn't told her. Just like he hadn't told her that the real reason he'd turned down her offer of a sleeping pill prescription was because he felt like he had a sentence to serve: that if he couldn't get the nightmares to go away from his tortured psyche then he didn't deserve sleep at all.

He'd been closer to Manny than anyone else in the NCR. Even after Bitter Springs, after his own people had been massacred, Vargas said he didn't hold it against the soldiers. Meaning he still wanted to be friends with Boone. They'd made plans to move to Novac to get away from it all... as if that were something possible in the middle of a war, Boone thought bitterly now. How naive they'd been.

The compassion Manny had for him was never deserved, however, because when it had come time for him to be able to extend it in the opposite direction Boone had refused to do so. Maliciously _and_ repeatedly.

What could he possibly say to make up for any of that?

Boone took Dr. Usanagi's advice to try journaling out his thoughts and feelings, and though it was mostly just banalities at first he finally started being more honest with himself after a few days.

_-Woke up hating myself again. Wonder how long I've been doing this... certainly before Carla was taken. No wonder she was always worried about me. I'm sorry, Carla._

_Maybe I ought to work on thinking about what to say to her besides "I'm sorry", also. She deserves that, at least._

_-Lilith is a good friend, but I still feel like they don't really know me. Not as well as Manny does. Why do I feel the need to compare them to him? Am I trying to compensate for ruining things with him by being better to Lil? She'd be disgusted if she read this._

_Or maybe not. Guess I don't know her that well either._

_-Running out of caps to my name. Why do I care about this when I could just end it all?_

_But, maybe I'll mention it to Lil. See if they might need a job to stick around here, too._

_I'm such a fucking coward._

_-Today sucked. Not even worth journaling about. Angry at everything. But maybe... it's not really anger. Maybe it's just fear underneath it all. Stomach hurts and I want to drink until I can't feel anything any more._

_Now that I've written that down, it seems far less appealing of an idea. Don't want to turn out like my father._

He brought the journal to his next session with Dr. Usanagi, but when he asked if she wanted to see it she shook her head.

"Boone, that journal is for _you_ , not for me. I want you to be totally honest with yourself when you write in it, and that means no one else should see that except you. I trust that anything relevant you write about, you'll bring to my attention."

"Okay. Thanks," Boone said, more relieved than he'd expected to be at not having to share the journal.

And perhaps that relief put him just a bit more at ease, because after they'd gone through discussing Carla and Bitter Springs again and how he was still having nightmares about both of them, he initiated a change of topic when there was a lull mid-session. He still felt drained and sick as always during therapy but... less so today. That had to be some sort of progress, right?

"...I've... thought about what I'd say to Manny," he said, and Dr. Usanagi smiled.

"I'm all ears, Boone. Lay it on me."

He took a deep, slow breath, trying to imagine that his old friend was really here.

"...I know that you feel like Carla took me away from you," he began in a low voice as he spoke to the floor, and in his peripheral vision he saw Dr. Usanagi leaning forward again to hear him.

"Worst part is, you're not even wrong. Because I wanted Carla to help me forget about everything to do with the NCR, and _you_ are a reminder of everything horrible I did with them. I know that's not fair to think, I know you weren't even at Bitter Springs. But the fact that you weren't there means you still have no goddamn right to forgive me or the rest of First Recon for it the way you have."

He was losing control of where this was going... it wasn't an apology any more, but another defense. Boone stalled as his mental train of thought derailed.

"Good, _good_!" Dr. Usanagi chimed in when he paused for a few moments and seemed hesitant.

"Craig, this is incredible work. I want you to really dig deep into these emotions you're expressing here: why did you say Manny has no right to forgive you for Bitter Springs?"

"Because he's a Khan," Boone said miserably. "It was his old tribe I killed! How could he not hate me for that?"

"Well, didn't Manny choose the NCR _over_ the Khans?" Dr. Usanagi pointed out. "If he'd cared so much to defend the Khan settlement at Bitter Springs, don't you think he would have been there himself? You just said he wasn't."

"No, he went to Camp Golf because he didn't want to have to murder his own," Boone growled. "The coward's way out. He didn't stand up to anyone. What right does he have to forgive the murders?"

"Now Craig. Is it Manny you're calling a coward... or is it yourself," Dr. Usanagi said gently.

"It's both of us," Boone said viciously.

He'd been feeling sick ever since first talking about Carla today, and now his gut was roiling.

"People who are friendly with the Khans call _him_ a murderer too even though he never killed anyone that day. But he doesn't even contradict them. Just stands there and _takes_ it because he's First Recon and he'll _do it for the team_."

"Craig, why are you saying that like it's a bad thing? Isn't that the camaraderie and loyalty the NCR encourages its soldiers to have with one another?"

"I'm _sick_ of the NCR!" Boone exploded suddenly, standing up and throwing his beret down onto the floor in one fluid motion.

"I'm fucking sick of them; they ruined our life! We had a g-good relationship before Bitter Springs," Boone cried wretchedly, knowing he was yelling again and unable to stop it.

For the first time since leaving Novac-- for the first time since long before that, really-- Boone _missed_ Manny, in the aching and painful way that he also missed Carla.

"Now it's never going to be the same, never." He sank to his knees, breathing heavily.

"Okay, Craig, let's dial it down a bit, you're breathing too fast. Try to slow down your breaths," Dr. Usanagi said, her voice gentle but firm at the same time.

Boone nodded, feeling like he was gulping for air... but eventually the room stopped tilting and he calmed again, and the doctor spoke when he looked up at her.

"Feeling better?"

"Yeah," he grunted, and her shoulders relaxed in relief.

Boone was embarrassed that he, a sniper, had to be given instructions on breathing. But then, this is what he was paying the big caps for he supposed-- to get assistance for things he simply could not do on his own.

Belatedly he realized Dr. Usanagi was talking again, having to tune in to her voice manually as if he was switching on an internal speaker in his ear.

"--were saying. You and Manny didn't choose to go through the ordeal of Bitter Springs, and yes it's terrible that you had to deal with that strain on your relationship. But why did you say your friendship will never be the same?"

_Because if I hadn't needed to scrub my brain clean after Bitter Springs, I might never have met Carla in the first place. Because I never would have wanted to leave Manny's side._

But he couldn't say any of that... it was too damning. Hitting too close to secrets he'd kept even from himself. So Boone cast about for an excuse to say instead, and the self-loathing was happy to provide some.

"Because 'm fucked up now," he muttered into his chest. "Damaged goods. Haven't had a real night's sleep in over a year... haven't had much sleep at all since Bitter Springs. Probably gonna die soon no matter what I do."

"Hm..." Dr. Usanagi sighed, then stood up and walked over to the First Aid kit on the patient room wall.

"Sleeping pills," she said curtly as she pressed a bottle into Boone's hand along with his beret.

"I'll bill you later. There's only six in here, so that'll last you all week til you're back."

"Don' want these," Boone protested, but Dr. Usanagi just clucked her tongue.

"Take _one_ a night Boone. Just one, all right? With a big glass of water, you hear?"

"Yeah," Boone muttered, wanting to throw the bottle but resisting the urge.

"Listen Craig, I get that you're a tough guy and all, but your body can't repair itself properly if you aren't sleeping. And your mind is _part_ of your body. You literally are denying your own healing to deny yourself rest."

"Don' deserve it," Boone said in a sour tone, and Dr. Usanagi clicked her heel on the tile floor impatiently.

"I honestly don't _care_ what you think you 'deserve' at this point, Craig Boone. All the breakthroughs you can make in here won't do you a bit of good if you're not taking care of yourself when you leave. As my patient I'm prescribing these to you effective immediately, until you can manage to have a tough session without a tantrum."

 _That_ shut up his burgeoning rebuttals, and Boone nodded guiltily.

"Sorry, Doctor."

"Just take the damn pills," Dr. Usanagi sighed as she escorted him out. "One a day, big glass of water. See you next week, Craig. Good work today-- and keep up the journaling."

Boone got back to his room at the Wrangler and put the mostly-empty bottle of sleeping pills on his night stand, staring at it in the yellow lamplight. Dr. Usanagi was smart, only giving him one weeks' worth at once... that way, it might not be enough to actually kill him even if he took all six at once. The risk wasn't one Boone was willing to take.

But when he finally swallowed one down with a full glass of water, it felt like surrender. And when he succumbed to the sleepy haze that quickly took him over... Craig dreamed of Manny.

At first it was a montage of his friend being upset and angry, both before and after Bitter Springs; Boone tossed and turned, whimpering in his sleep but not waking.

Then the dream shifted, and slowed, and they were younger: the age they'd been when first meeting years ago at Camp McCarran. Manny was in his green private fatigues, smiling and punching playfully at Boone's shoulder.

"Tough guy Boone can't ask a pretty girl out, eh?"

"Oh quit it." His own voice, replaying a memory of a day in the sun long gone.

"I saw you with that soldier at the canteen. You _liked_ her, I could tell by how awkward you were being. Why didn't you ask her out?"

"Shut up," Boone said stubbornly, but Manny only laughed.

Manny's laugh always made something warm stir in Boone's chest.

"I'm awkward around you too," Boone protested, and Manny's smile widened to a grin.

"Oh, are you admitting you like me too then?" he cheesed, and Boone's heart skipped a beat.

"...Kidding, kidding," Manny said a moment later, collapsing into giggles. "Man, you really thought I was serious! You should've seen the look on your face."

In the dream-memory, Boone felt his insides squirm, because while he was grateful that his friend had let the question go... he'd already known the answer.

For the first time in too many hellish months, Craig Boone slept all through the night.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: suicidal ideation / wanting to die, referenced death, sleeping pills, alcohol, discussion of consent (based around hugging)
> 
> The tag is already on for implied/referenced sexual content but heads up, there's more of that in this chapter! and again, though I'm referencing a character being in therapy I am in no way giving real medical advice: this is a fictional story.
> 
> I totally made Boone a Himbo Ally for people who use multiple pronouns and I'm not sorry lmao. 
> 
> also here is Simon: https://fallout.fandom.com/wiki/Simon_(Fallout:_New_Vegas)
> 
> Gloria Van Graff: https://fallout.fandom.com/wiki/Gloria_Van_Graff  
> Jean-Baptiste Cutting: https://fallout.fandom.com/wiki/Jean-Baptiste_Cutting

There was a knock on his door at the Wrangler in the morning.

Boone was roused from the deepest sleep he'd had in years, blinking groggily as he stumbled to answer the door: it was Lilith, and their eyebrow raised in surprise seeing him still in his bed clothes.

"Were you-- sleeping? Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's fine, I... slept fine," Boone said, the words sounding strange coming out of his mouth as he rubbed at his eyes for a moment.

"Dr. Usanagi gave me some pills."

Hadn't he been dreaming? He couldn't remember anything now... but that was probably for the best, given the sort of dreams he usually had.

"Oh," Lil said, nodding in understanding. "Well, that's good that they already seem to be working, yeah?" she added brightly.

Boone nodded back. "Yeah. What's up?"

She'd found them a job over with the Van Graffs across Freeside, and they started that afternoon. Though Boone had never set foot in an energy weapons shop, once the guard Simon handed over a plasma rifle it felt surprisingly similar to his traditional weapon in his hands as far as where the weight was distributed.

It only _looked_ ridiculous, and the sights were atrociously placed in Boone's opinion. Luckily they weren't really expected to use their weapons much here, mostly able to intimidate away any potential threats with menacing glances-- Freeside was hard, but not _that_ hard when you were wearing black-painted custom Van Graff Combat Armor and packing serious heat.

Their first shift passed without any violent incidents, and Simon congratulated them on a job well done. They were both told to come back in two days, getting tomorrow off. When they got back to the Wrangler Lil and Boone decided to loiter in the lobby before retiring for the night, even though it was already quite late.

Boone didn't feel tired yet due to all the sleep he'd gotten last night; he hoped the pill he'd take later would still knock him out again. Now that he'd experienced rest without nightmares... he didn't want to go back. Stoicism be damned.

It had been just over three years now since Bitter Springs; perhaps his 'sentence' of night terrors had been served long enough.

"I need a drink. My feet _hurt_ ," Lil complained as they bellied up to the bar, and Boone made a low noise of acknowledgement: standing in one spot was always somehow harder than walking around.

"One beer please, James."

"Coming right up doll-face."

"...Does it ever bother you for me to drink in front of you?" Lil asked all of a sudden while turning her head to look at Boone.

He felt embarrassed. Mostly because James Garrett quirked an eyebrow and silently scoffed as he set Lil's beer in front of her-- as if it was _odd_ for a friend to ask this sort of compassionate question.

Maybe if they'd been alone he could have been more honest about this, but for now Boone pushed his real thoughts down once more. It was always easier to repress, and tonight he just wanted to relax after being vigilant for eight hours straight.

"No, it's fine," he insisted.

To his relief Lilith dropped it.

"Okay. Just please let me know if that changes, all right? I won't ask again," they said, and Boone was grateful.

"Thanks," he said, and Lilith raised their beer bottle in a 'cheers' motion before taking a large swig.

She took her time over that one beer, letting it go warm at the bottom as they chatted about the Van Graffs, and Freeside, and other trivial things. Lil didn't get tipsy off just one beer, but she did start laughing a little louder and smiling a little wider, which was nice.

Boone had sorely missed just shooting the shit like this, the two of them comiserating like they'd been working this job for years. He actually _laughed_ a bit from something she said. He'd almost forgotten what that felt like, and not for the first time Boone thanked his lucky stars for Lil coming through Novac.

He didn't like thinking on what his life would be like if he'd never met them... if he would still be alive at all. Before the two of them parted ways to go to their own rooms he caught Lil gently by the hand at the top of the stairs.

"You're a good friend, Lilith," he said, and was pleased to see them blush from the compliment.

"You're a sweetheart, Boone, you know that? You really are," they said, smiling at him and squeezing his hand.

If Lilith had called him _sweetheart_ when they'd first met, he would have recoiled. Now, though, he just ducked his head in embarrassment but didn't protest. He was trying to learn to take compliments himself, too.

"Just... wanted to say it. Trying to be more-- open, I guess," Boone said, squeezing back before letting her hand go.

"Hm, well if we're both being more open, could I ask you for a goodnight hug?" Lil asked, and at first Boone was stunned.

He'd never been _asked_ for a hug before. Not in his whole almost-twenty-seven years of life.

Either people did it to him or they didn't, and they mostly didn't. Even Carla hadn't been much of a hugger, more a bed cuddler.

Boone realized that being asked... felt good. Felt right.

"Yeah," he said.

Then they were hugging, and he realized that he'd also missed this, too. Even in bulky armor, it was nice.

A little while later Boone was trying to get his thoughts about this into a journal entry before going to bed, even though it was nearly midnight.

_-Lil asked me for a hug tonight before we went to bed. No one has ever asked me that before. Is that weird?_ _Feel like it is, but guess I never even considered it until just now._

_Maybe I'll ask Dr. Usanagi about this. Maybe not though. Don't know what's important and what's just me being a social recluse. Is it weird to think that-- maybe I should have been asked all this time, not just by Lil? That I should also ask whenever I want to hug someone? Isn't that just what makes sense?_

Boone sighed in frustration, looking down at what he'd written so far. How could he write with intent and yet manage to not say _anything_ of what he actually wanted to? How could his thoughts so easily get away from him? He kept going, trying again.

_What I meant to say when I started this is, Lil is a good friend. Told her that tonight. Not only has she helped me out by getting me a job, but... they're just really good to me in ways I don't deserve._

_Guess I should try to stop saying I "don't deserve" things, huh._

_I'm tired._

As soon as he finished those words, Boone knew he couldn't write any more-- his body was suddenly leaden with exhaustion in a way that scared him a little. He felt almost _more_ tired than he had two nights ago, and that didn't make sense to him.

What if taking the sleeping pill while he was this tired meant he'd sleep too deeply?

But he was too afraid of the nightmares to not take one. _Coward_ , he called himself in a vicious tone as he swallowed it down.

And despite his racing anxious thoughts Boone slept, deeply and peacefully, dreaming things he would not remember upon waking.

\--

Spring in the Mojave was already cruelly hot from dawn til dusk, and Boone resented very much having to wear heavy armor to stand in one place _outside_.

But working front door guard at the Silver Rush was the highest-paying job around for the hours, and the Van Graffs were very reasonable employers aside from the whole no-shade-awning-for-outdoor-guards thing.

At least he had good sunglasses.

Boone and Lil had only worked together their first night for training; now they worked alternating shifts. Boone had the early hours with Simon from 0400 until 1200. Then Lil would work from 1200 until 2000 with Jean-Baptiste.

If Boone worked the next day he'd already be zonked out in bed from one of his sleeping pills by the time Lilith got back to the Wrangler-- he needed to allow a full eight hours for sleep a night, Dr. Usanagi had insisted. His session time and day was switched so that he could see the doctor earlier and be in bed by 1900. It had meant Boone saw Lil less in the evenings, but more in the mornings; they began a ritual of having coffee together at 0330 before he walked over to the Rush.

He was journaling a _lot_ now, having to scrounge around for more pencils at Aerotech and the NCR Embassy because he kept running them down with his knife. And when Dr. Usanagi had asked if he was having any nightmares, he said that he wasn't having any dreams at all... even though he wasn't sure if that was quite the truth. He just couldn't ever remember, the visions leaving his head within seconds of waking up.

It was almost noon on a Tuesday in April 2282, and Boone was looking forward to what had become his daily ritual after work: eat lunch, take a walk to stretch out his stiff muscles and clear his head, then come back and journal for as long as he could.

"Ugh, why is it always the last ten minutes that pass the slowest?" Simon sighed as he checked his watch.

Boone made a low noise in his throat in agreement.

"You gonna eat lunch when you get off?"

"Yeah," Boone said, his stomach rumbling a little as if on cue.

"Me too. I finally got some good Brahmin steaks waiting in my fridge to grill with some corn," Simon said proudly. "Put the steaks in a marinade right before I left this morning. It's gonna be _amazing_. After sweating all day in this sun I'm starving."

"That sounds good," Boone admitted, and he wasn't humoring Simon either-- it _did_ sound good.

His own tinned rations back at the hotel were far less appealing than fresh food, but they were also far cheaper for the same amount of calories. He'd never really learned to cook for himself.

"You want in, man? I could use some help shucking the corn," Simon offered, and Boone nodded again.

"That'd be nice, Simon. Thanks."

Not long ago was a time when he would have been so paranoid that he would have seen that offer as a threat... Boone was very glad he was no longer that suspicious of a person any more. He didn't like that the past three years had very nearly turned him into someone he didn't recognize.

"Boone?"

"Huh?" He'd stopped listening to Simon by accident.

"I _said_ , isn't that your friend Lilith coming up? And she's eight minutes early, bless her."

Now Boone saw them coming, noticing Lil was waving at him and Simon. He waved back.

"You two lovebirds are so cute," Simon gushed, making Boone grimace.

"We're just friends," he said gruffly, perhaps a bit _too_ quick.

"Are you _serious_? So is she single?"

"I heard that, Simon," Lilith said as she drew close, and Boone laughed.

"And yes I _am_ single, what're you gonna do about it?" she teased.

Simon's eyes widened, but he barely missed a beat.

"I... uh, d'you want to come over for Brahmin steak tonight after your shift?"

 _Traitor_ , Boone thought with amusement as he and Simon both watched Lilith's face now for her answer.

"Sure! I love Brahmin steak," Lil said, and Simon looked like he couldn't believe his luck.

"Sorry man, you understand right? I'll get you next time since you were so chill about it," he said to Boone in apology a few minutes later as they walked down the road away from the Rush.

They passed Jean-Baptiste Cutting on his way to start his shift, waving at the man as he glared at them from across the street. He was _not_ one for conversation, Simon had informed Boone, so they kept their distance.

"I get it," Boone said, chuckling softly. "Really, it's fine. But you better be nice to Lilith, they're my best friend," he added as a warning, and Simon held up his hands.

"I promise! I really like her, my guy. And I honestly thought you two were an item so, this is completely unexpected. She is _way_ too hot for me to pass up a chance to shower her in attention."

"...Call her _they_ sometimes, okay? They like it," Boone said suddenly.

"Oh, is this that third gender stuff?" Simon asked, and Boone frowned.

"I don't know, honestly," he admitted, since he'd never actually asked Lil about it beyond the day they'd first met.

"But, I know it's important to Lilith to be called she _and_ they. Those are the pronouns they like. Get it?"

"I think so," Simon said slowly, and Boone nodded.

"Good. I think you'll do fine tonight."

"Thanks, man."

\--

Later on, Boone was journaling again.

_-Simon (from the Silver Rush) invited me over to his place for lunch today, but then when he realized Lilith was single he asked her out to dinner instead. He was so shocked when she said yes-- it was honestly pretty funny. I'm happy for them both._

Boone sighed while staring at what he'd written down. He'd been feeling... strange today, after his usual tinned lunch and walk. And it wasn't from knowing that Simon would be sharing a meal with Lilith instead; that didn't bother him. In fact, he hoped the dinner date went well.

It was more that... he was missing having someone of his own to love, or even just crush on. Someone to look forward to spending time with in _that_ way.

For the first time since her death, he was missing Carla in a romantic, nostalgic sort of way. Not the sickened feeling from loss that he'd lived with for months. He tried to put his thoughts into words.

_Guess I feel a bit lonely too. Now that I've been sleeping and not dreaming of Carla being-- dead, I can start to remember her more from when we were first together._

_She was working at the Tops as a bartender when I met her on leave. I remember her hair was always perfectly curled. After the first time we slept together we took a shower, and then I watched her coil her hair up into those bizarre little foam rollers one by one. Pre-War stuff that had been salvaged from a vault._

_"It's a lot of work to look this good," she said when she caught me watching._

_Then I woke up when she did in the early dawn, watching speechless as she shook out her gorgeous curls._

_Should have known something was wrong when she stopped doing that-- curling her hair. Probably a month after we moved to Novac. Around the same time she got a reputation for being "antisocial"._

_Carla, I should have noticed that. You weren't happy there. I can admit that now, and I should have listened to you. Should never have dragged you into my mess of a life._

_Still miss you so fucking much it hurts, but... what can I do? You're gone._

His vision blurred, and Boone blinked and wiped at his face roughly.

"Shit," he muttered when he realized a couple of tears had splashed down onto the journal page.

He wiped them away, the penciled words smudging a bit. What was the point of any of this?

Exhaling harshly, he stood up and decided that was enough writing for today.

\--

April melted into May, and Boone was still dutifully keeping an almost-daily journal.

_-Simon had me over for lunch today, just like he said he would. I like a man who sticks to his word. He's a good host, too, and a good cook. Said he's been having a lot of fun with Lil lately, and I politely asked him to spare me the details._

_I'm happy for them, really, but... something about imagining Lil having sex with someone is a bit too much for me. They're almost like a sibling to me at this point. Since my sister's out in California with my parents, Lil is all I have for family now. Guess Simon will be my family too assuming things work out._

_Still difficult to feel like I deserve a family at all after Bitter Springs, and after I couldn't save the baby I was going to have with Carla... or her.  
_

_She could have survived by leaving me and going back to New Vegas, but she stayed and didn't give up on me. Neither did Manny. Never deserved the love either of them gave me._

_Fuck. Sick of journaling._

_-Been reading my older entries in here, wondering what the point of all this is._

_Tonight at my session, I told the doctor about trying to write about Carla and how it always makes me cry. No matter what the memory is: happy, frustrated, mundane... it always turns depressing in a way that makes me want to drown in my sadness. Dr. Usanagi said my "emotional descriptiveness" has gotten much better in the past two months. Guess that's a good thing?_

_But even though I'm sleeping and journaling daily, I still want to die. Still think that Vargas hates me and won't give me another chance-- I've been gone for too long. What if he's left Novac?_

_Told the doctor about that too. The worry that he'll leave, or be dead by the time I return there._

_She said that all I can do is work on myself, and that I can't control his life. Just have to trust that he'll survive like I will. She said he might even be worried about me, too._

_And though I hope he isn't worrying over me-- guess it'd be nice if he still cared enough to._

_One more thing: Dr. Usanagi said she wants me to start cutting the sleeping pills in half, that we're going to wean me off so I don't get addicted. Only been five weeks since I started taking them, but honestly I'm relieved. Don't want to be on these any more than I have to be. Least I'm good with a knife, ha. Now time to figure out how to do this without losing the other half immediately..._

_-Last night I had a dream. Not a nightmare-- a dream._

_Just woke up and still can only barely remember it. But I was with Carla and she wasn't dead._

_She looked sad, almost about to cry, but she was beautiful and whole. Just like the last day I spent with her. She didn't say anything, and when I reached out to touch her it was like she was behind glass. I couldn't reach her.  
_

_-Ugh. Was dreaming about Carla again, but now that I'm trying to write there's nothing in my head any more. I give up.  
_

_My chest hurts. I miss her._

_-Finally fessed up to Lil tonight that I don't like when they drink around me._

_They asked why I'd taken so long to bring it up, and I answered honestly: that I was trying to force myself to be okay with it because I thought it was easier. Thankfully she understood that. Lilith is one of the most perceptive people I've ever known, and though it was intimidating at first I'm so grateful for it now._

_They told me tonight that Simon has been very sweet to them, and I'm grateful for that too. Both that Lil told me, and that it's happening. She deserves it.  
_

_-Fuck! I just woke up from a very vivid dream, a good one I think-- my family was there, my parents and my sister, but I can't remember anything about it now. Can barely remember what their faces look like. God damn it._

_Maybe I should try to write them or something._

_-Gloria told me "great work" today at the end of my shift: had to dispatch a rowdy drunk by knocking him out. Simon said this is high praise from the boss-- guess I'll take it._

_Once he realized that I eat tinned food over at the Wrangler, he's been inviting me over for lunch every day we work together. He wants to seem hard and unapproachable like Jean-Baptiste to those that don't know him, but Simon is a nice guy. We get along well, and it's been so long since I had a guy friend besides Manny that I feel... less defective as a person. If Simon likes me enough to share food-- even getting me to do chores for it-- I must not be such a monster any more. Maybe I'll finally learn to cook after all._

_-Another dream that I actually can remember this time. This one was about Vargas, and it was from when we'd first met. Back when he smiled easier, and laughed with me. Feels like a lifetime ago now. Can't even remember if we ever laughed together in Novac. Everything was so fucking grim. Manny and Carla were at each other daily like a cat and dog, and I was stuck in the middle._

_Why did either of them ever bother with me?? Fuck._

_-Told Dr. Usanagi that I've been dreaming almost every night since cutting my dose. Mostly it's just brief things that get away from me within seconds of waking up, even when I try to journal it, but she said it's still good to try. Told her about the Carla dream, and the one about my family, but not about the Manny one. Don't know why._

_No... that's not it. I do know why._

_I'm just not ready to talk about any of that yet. Not even here. Maybe not ever._

_-Haven't journaled in a couple days, been hanging out with Lilith and Simon since our days off lined up. It's nice to have friends again, even if they are a bit too lovey-dovey in front of me. Don't feel like a third wheel, more like... I'm their adopted son or something. Ha.  
_

_Today I took the doctor's advice from last session and sat down to write a letter to my family. Realized I have absolutely no clue what to even say and stared at the blank paper for a good ten minutes before giving up. Why is writing not any easier than talking face to face, when I know someone else will read the words?  
_

_Guess I'm scared that they've forgotten about me, or have assumed I'm dead and don't want to be reminded of their decision to let me enlist young._

_Now that I've written that out it seems ridiculous. They're my family. Why wouldn't they want to hear from me? Going to try writing the letter again._

_-Told Lil this morning that I sent the letter out, and they congratulated me. I said I didn't really tell them for the validation, more... because I'm nervous. Now that it's sent, it's hard not to think that my family might be dead or gone somewhere the letter can't reach._

_Lilith told me they worry about their own family like that all the time, and then we sat in my room quiet for a while just holding hands. Lil has taught me how to be comfortable with shared silence while I'm sober, something I never thought would happen. Their friendship is special to me._

_Before I left for work, Lil said they were going to try writing their own family. I gave them a pencil and paper, and wished them well. And when I got back from having lunch with Simon she smiled at me and thanked me for encouraging her._

_What are friends for, right?_

_-Wow, can't believe I'm actually writing this-- I want to get drunk._

_I want to drink but not to die. How long has it been since I felt this? Want to get surly and reckless like I used to in basic. Should probably bring this up at my next session._

_Time for a long walk before bed, because trying to write down my thoughts to clear my head isn't working right now and I'm getting twitchy being in this damned casino._

_-Woke up with morning wood today for the first time in... hell, I really don't know. Sometime back in my early days with Carla, probably. Think I was dreaming but I can't remember anything now._

_Lay there for a minute thinking about what I should do, whether it was even appropriate to... indulge._

_Thought about Carla naked, spread-legged on the bed and smiling up at me with her 'fuck me' eyes. But then worried that if I tried to jerk off thinking about her, her dead face would float in front of me at the wrong moment. So I got up and took a cold shower instead._

_Didn't even want to journal about this but I haven't been able to stop thinking about it all fucking day._

_Really, really do not want to talk to Dr. Usanagi about it either... but I probably should. My session is tomorrow._

_-Just got back from my session. So mad at myself. Had a note in my hand about the morning wood and everything, and fucking wussed out at the last goddamn second. Didn't give it to her. Let her praise me for bringing up the letter and wanting to drink instead._

_Why is it so hard for me to talk about certain things that happen to me? Why am I so broken?_

_I don't deserve to never be happy again. The doctor said that tonight when we were talking about the letter to my family and for once, I think I agree with her. Don't I deserve to move on from all this bullshit the NCR put me through? Haven't I suffered enough?_

_No matter how much sleep I get, I'm still so goddamned tired. Dr. Usanagi says it'll take time for my body to repair itself but I hate this. Almost worse than the insomnia was-- at least then it felt reasonable, the exhaustion. Now it's annoying. But I'm too tired not to sleep._

_The problem with pretending to be strong all the time, I think, is that letting go of that feels like such weakness._

_But maybe I've been wrong this whole time. Maybe what takes the most strength is the letting go._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love journal writing with a character, the emotions get so complex. Boone's journal is quite smudged-up with tears by this point... I just didn't write it in every time he cried, ha. 
> 
> Comments and kudos keep me going, I love to hear what y'all think :D
> 
> The next chapter might not be out for a week or so because I'm working a lot, but I'm really obsessed with this right now so who knows~


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